lf, my
dear," said Mrs. Grewe's small lustrous black eyes.

"Well? Is he treating you better?" she asked.

"Yes," said Ethel.

"He's very wise." They smiled at each other.

"He's becoming quite sensible," Ethel said.

"And have you found those friends you wanted?"

"They're in sight," was Ethel's answer. Her hostess smiled good
humouredly.

"You won't be able to keep me," she said. "He won't stand that--"

Ethel knit her brows.

"He'll stand a good deal," she answered, "when once I know where I stand
myself."

"In the meantime you'd better leave me alone."

The two parted in affable fashion.

"There," thought Ethel in relief. "I got through that rather nicely. I
needn't go again, of course."

She had started out for a brisk walk, and she drew a deep breath of the
frosty air. The air in New York was often so--gay! And Mrs. Grewe had
given her such a feeling of independence. She saw a man turn and look
at her--the beast! But she smiled as she hurried on toward the Park.

Still, the brief visit had been rather daring. Joe would not have liked
it at all. He would have been perfectly furious!

"However!" She walked briskly on. "What's the difference between Mrs.
Grewe and his own dear friend, Fanny Carr?" she asked. "Nothing
whatever--except that Fanny, so far as we know, has taken the trouble
with each man to have a wedding and a divorce. The only other
difference is that Fanny has no taste at all, while Mrs. Grewe has
heaps of it! And she reads things--even Shaw; and she likes good music,
too. She is going tonight to 'Salome.'" . . . For a moment Ethel let
her mind run over all the operas she herself was going to hear, and the
concerts, and the plays she would see and the dinners she would go to,
the talks in which she would take part. She could see herself--just
scintillating! . . . With a jerk she came back to Mrs. Grewe. "Oh,
I guess it isn't very defiling to turn to her from Fanny Carr! I'll do
as I please!" she impatiently thought.

Still, it had been rather daring. It fitted in exactly with several
talks she had had of late with Dwight, her music teacher: talks in which
each one of them had taken rather a challenging tone that had grown
distinctly intimate. One night when Joe was out of town she had gone
with Dwight to the opera. And she had not mentioned it to Joe--not that
she felt guilty at all, she had simply dropped it out of her mind. In
love with her husband? Yes, indeed. And let Dwight or